


your voice is my lifeline

by XeniavanHausen



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Angst, Depression, F/M, Famous Levi, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Lead singer Levi, M/M, Promiscuous Levi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-05
Updated: 2014-04-07
Packaged: 2018-01-18 07:31:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1419708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XeniavanHausen/pseuds/XeniavanHausen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erwin has had depression for years. Still living. Levi's voice is the only thing that keeps him going. </p><p>(Basically, a story of fanboy!Erwin and promiscuous lead singer!Levi and their eventual fluffy relationship. Full of sap. Before I slap the angst on high.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kittenteeth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenteeth/gifts).



The girl giggles as she tugs Levi into the hotel room, body slim and swaying in front of the lead singer who raises his brows in drunken amusement, following after her. She trips over her own legs and falls right onto the bed, twisting just in time to land gracelessly on her back, but her make up is smoky and hot and Levi's pretty drunk too, so he doesn't care as she tries a seductive smile and pulls him on top of her. He stumbles the few steps as he falls, but catches himself with his palms flat on the bed, caging her within his arms. She smirks at him, a challenge in her eyes, and wiggles up higher on the bed before bringing a teasing knee to his crotch and rubbing.

Levi's breath halts and he shuffles to pin her wrists above her head, laying them in the splay of her long, brunette tresses—curled, conditioned, and cared for. He hikes her up by the waist and drops her farther up the bed before kissing her, not caring how her lip gloss or lipstick or whatever it is smears onto his own lips, one knee between her legs and soon she's rubbing herself against him, moaning and giggling into his mouth and he laps it all up, tasting the mix of liquor on her tongue—or maybe it's his own mouth that tastes like that. No matter.

She purposefully presses her clit into him, short dress hiking up and displaying her colorfully laced panties to him, thin and soft and riding between her legs as she grinds into his thigh, undulating motions of her lower body. Levi wastes no time in grabbing hold of her hips and slipping his fingers past the thin line of fabric and fingering the outside of her vagina.

She starts moaning, bucking into his caresses, and Levi easily slips the panties down, hikes her legs over his shoulders, and licks. He's fucking drunk and he knows it, so he doesn't give a damn about how dirty he's getting himself, because it feels fucking good. He puts pressure with his tongue against her pussy and she moans at one particular spot, so Levi decides to pay more attention to it and attempts to smirk when it has her squirming and tugging at his hair and letting out beautifully feminine moans.

He pets her smooth thighs and squeezes her ass as he eats her out, holding her still at times and making sure to keep licking that sensitive spot when her moans start sounding choked and breathless, and soon he's slipping his fingers in and fucking into her clit with them while he licks her folds until she's coming onto his tongue and slicking up his fingers with thick, warm cum.

He keeps fingering her, tilting his head to nip at her thighs, until she's caught her breath and giggles again.

“Fuck, Levi,” she moans in pleasure. “Fuck me.”

She sits up and tugs Levi to stand, hand going right to his crotch and cupping him through his tight jeans, licking her lips and pulling him in for a kiss by the front of his shirt. Levi grins into it, because he likes it when the girls are a little aggressive. She goes to work unbuckling him, her hands gentle and teasing as she slips them into his boxers and strokes his cock, making noises of appreciation when she feels his hardness.

“Mm, come on, Levi,” she purrs, pushing his pants down and leaning forward to kiss his navel, then lick his length. She suckles on the tip of his cock and peers up at him, eyes big and lashes long. She sucks again and murmurs, “Fuck me hard.”

Levi watches her, his intoxicated mind loving every little display she does, and runs a hand through her silky hair, petting her. Without a word, he nudges her to flip over and she obliges, getting on her hands and knees before Levi remembers to fumble through his pants for a condom, rolling it on before he rubs his cock against her pussy and slides it in with a quiet moan.

Tonight's going to be the same as any other, before Levi heads out with his band again in the morning for their last venue in LA. Levi's looking forward to that, because LA's after parties have always been the best.

\---

Erwin Smith wakes up in a good mood, feeling much better than he has in weeks. The Underground is finally stopping for their final performance of their newest tour, and Erwin managed to buy tickets to see them live.

Smiling at himself in the mirror, Erwin knows today will be a day where his depression won't hit as hard as it had. All thanks to Levi.

Oh, Levi.

Erwin could talk about Levi all day if only someone listened—Levi's poise, Levi's half-smile, Levi's fashion sense, and God, Levi's _voice._ By now Erwin's forgotten how he found the band's music, but it was most likely just hearing them in passing on the streets of Los Angeles and searching up a part of the lyrics.

But God, Erwin was obsessed by the third song on YouTube. To him, Levi's sultry, lilting voice did wonders to calm him down or motivate him when he needed it. The young singer has such a way with music and song writing that his repertoire ranges from angry rock to regretful, piano vocals. Erwin loves almost every song Levi has sung, save for the few with screeching vocals that Erwin can't help but grimace and wonder just what was going through Levi's head when he recorded it.

 

 

He feels completely out of place when he arrives at the ticketing center, where groups of young girls in shorts and boots and risque clothing bunch together, animatedly chatting about one thing or another. He hears the band members' names thrown around frequently—Gunther, Erd, Auruo—and, of course, _Levi._

No one knows his last name, and Erwin has to admit that it adds to his charm. A legendary _feel_ to him overall, because who else went by only one name?

Madonna. Bono. Cher.

Now, Levi.

Erwin glances around and stuffs his clammy hands into his jeans pockets, because he definitely looks like he doesn't belong. He dressed his best, in some dark washed, straight cut jeans and brown vans, a nice collared shirt and a fitting brown sweater. But all around him are kids in darks—blacks and reds, random scribbles on the front of their shirt that Erwin can't quite make out but suspects are skulls or ghastly faces or something, sharp hair and piercings and tattoos. They fit with Levi's general style—the blacks and all—but while no one pays him much attention, he gradually shrinks into himself a little more as the time passes while they all wait for the doors to open. He's doing this for Levi, he reminds himself.

It feels like an eternity before the venue finally lets them all in, but Erwin forgets his anxiety once he's inside the stuffy arena, excitement pooling inside his stomach as he glances around curiously, only to see huge posters of Levi's beautifully sharp face and sharp expression hung everywhere, and God, Erwin couldn't care less about what he looks like now that he can just sit in the dark and watch Levi live.

By the time he finds his seat, Erwin notices on his watch that the concert should be starting any time now, and he can't quite sit still. Neither can the teenage couple beside him, it seems, as they start feeling each other up in the corner of his eye.

Erwin tries his best to ignore it, and when he feels himself about to jump out of his skin in excitement and nervousness, the lights flash and turn and do all these funny things Erwin hasn't experienced up close before that he's stunned still, staring straight at the stage, where Levi is still no where to be seen but his band is already up there, pounding out the music to one of their most popular songs. Erwin likes it, since it's catchy and upbeat—which, he assumes, is why it got to the Top Ten list of the Billboards—but the lyrics aren't as great as the other, lesser known songs. The ones that, after Erwin's research, Levi wrote single-handedly.

And there Levi was, Erwin notices immediately, rising from the middle of the stage with fire in his expression and Erwin feels himself forget to breathe.

And fuck, when Levi opens his mouth Erwin swears he can die happy now. Happy, after years of struggling to pick himself up and get out of the rut he's been in. Happy, after feeling like shit waking up and simply living because he needs to make the money. Happy, because Levi has a way with words in his music that just makes everything feel right.

The Underground never releases their song line up on tours, and they switch it up for every venue they perform at, dedicating the songs specifically to each city. They explain that their choices are based on the atmosphere and the memories they've had, and the feelings evoked in them by each place.

Erwin doesn't notice himself smiling the entire time, sometimes even closing his eyes when Levi gets up to play a solo on the piano, and God, it sends shivers down Erwin's spine. Levi's voice so raw and so powerful, his lyrics vague but clear enough to indicate a certain type of experience he's trying to convey.

Erwin doesn't ever want this night to end, but as he thinks that, Levi's already done singing and thanking his fans, sweat gleaming off the side of his face and neck. An unsettling sensation and disappointment weighs heavy in Erwin's chest, but he did pay extra for the meet and greet afterward, so at least he can stay for a little longer.

\---

Levi immediately takes the clean towel handed to him by the staff backstage, wiping himself off as he heads straight to his dressing room, returning thanks and “good job”s to people passing by. Petra catches up to him and follows closely behind, getting straight to business. Levi is forever grateful for his manager's no nonsense attitude.

“Get yourself cleaned up and we're about done preparing the meet and greet. It's your last one so make it count.”

“I know.”

“We're also giving out extra goodies to those who are coming so be on your best behavior. The after party will be an hour after the event ends.”

They stop in front of the dressing room, Levi turning to give her a nod that he understands, and she claps him on the back with a smile. “Good job tonight.”

Wiping himself off one more time, he smiles tiredly and replies, “You too, Petra.”

As usual, Levi checks himself in the mirror, admiring the make up they've put on him, and by now he's learned how to do his own eyeliner. Touching it up a bit and carding fingers through his hair, Levi decides to change into something fresh because he smells of sweat and he hates it.

Levi doesn't mind the meet and greets, but after a while, they all turn out to be the same. Pretty girls with a little too much foundation and liner squealing over him, showing off their skinny shoulders and long arms with mid crop tanks as they shake his hand. Boys in mainstream styles asking for his autograph, and it's not that Levi minds at all—he thrives on it, but it's nothing _new_ anymore.

And just as he expected, the scene in LA is about the same, though his fans here are much more smiles and friendly chatting. What he's used to, growing up in the big cities of Cali.

Halfway in, Levi's mind is already gone because he's one, bored. Two, tired. And three, thinking of what else he could be doing in LA before he has to fly out again.

After he's done signing a poster with his own face on it and hands it back to a girl who he assumes is in college, Levi expects to see another of his normal fans only to make eye contact with a man who's either in his late twenties or early thirties, dressed _well,_ but not dressed like his usual fans at all. But damn, he's tall. And has a really fucking strong, angular face. Levi barely holds himself back from raising his brows in curiosity, but as he straightens he extends his hand and smiles at the man, who he has a hard time accepting is his _fan._

“Hey,” he says, “thanks for coming.”

The blond nods, seeming to avoid his eyes. Levi keeps his own gaze level, curious about this man who doesn't fit in but seems way too nervous to shake his hand.

For once, Levi doesn't push and ask _did you want me to sign that?_ when his fans seem a little too nervous to speak. Or that they're trying to think of a way to prolong their interaction. Somehow, Levi's intrigued by this man. And when he finally looks back up, closer now that he's stepped up to the edge of the table, Levi realizes with appreciation that this guy has fucking clear blue eyes.

\---

Erwin swipes his palms across his jeans another time, already too many for him to remember count. Only three more people and he would be at the front, he would be across from Levi, he would be able to _shake hands_ with Levi, of all people. Holy fuck.

He wipes his sweaty hands on his jeans again and he swears he's going to rub the skin raw after so many times, but suddenly it's his turn and he's face to face with the lead singer with that sultry voice that makes everything seem okay again and Erwin doesn't know what the fuck to say.

Levi's extending his hand and Erwin feels in a daze, proffering his own in mimic of the motion and he holds on firmly, simply because he's learned how to give a proper handshake from all his business meetings.

God, Levi's smiling. Smiling at _him._ Thanking him for coming. Levi shouldn't be thanking him at all, God damn, because Erwin swears he owes everything to Levi right now.

“No, thank _you,_ ” his mouth says and Erwin's surprised he even remembers how to speak. His heart is pounding, and even in this noise, he can hear his pulse in his ear as he finally pulls his hand away hastily, inwardly grimacing at how his hand must have felt gross. He's so nervous. He glances down as he shoves his hand back into his pocket, forgetting exactly what else he wanted to do when he met Levi, until he feels like he's taking up too much time and finally looks back up only to realize Levi's been staring at him this whole time. His throat goes dry and he tries swallowing to moisten it again, but it's hard.

“I, uh, could you—uh, sign this for me?” He fumbles with two CD albums, one of The Underground's earliest ones and the latest release. He briefly notices how Levi raises his brows and Erwin suddenly feels a cold drop in his stomach because what does that mean? Is there something wrong? Oh God, he probably looks dumb because he actually still has CDs.

But then Levi's uncapping his marker and signing, until he stops midway and looks up at Erwin—fuck, he looks beautiful with his hair falling down and head tilted—asking, “What's your name?”

Erwin fumbles over his words, seriously forgetting how to pronounce his own name before he finally manages out a strangled version of the two syllables. “Erwin. Erwin Smith.” He feels himself grimacing slightly when Levi smiles at it, glancing back to the album.

Erwin's on a high when Levi hands the two cases back to him, stacked neatly and held in both hands. Erwin takes them in both of his as well, giving Levi a brief nod and another mumbled _thank you_ before he's turning around to leave.

He hesitates for a second, and that's when Levi smiles crookedly at him and winks.

“You're welcome.”

Erwin could've gone to Hell then and there and he would have no problems with it.

\---

Well, that was a nice change. Levi finds himself thinking back on _Erwin_ quite a bit for the rest of the night, wondering why that guy seemed so genuinely into his music when he doesn't fit the archetype at all. He wonders briefly if the dude has a thing for young, feisty guys, which is apparently his image, but then if Erwin is, then Levi assumes he would've asked for an autograph on a poster. Which is the general norm for all his fans. They like Levi because he looks good. Levi knows it. They like the band because _they look good._ Rarely has anyone brought actual albums for them to sign, but it was a pleasant surprise to see that Erwin has both their early works and latest. Levi can't help but wonder if he has the rest, too.

He shrugs to himself once the event is over, thinking that there would probably be no harm in writing down his number. It's not like the dude would know where he lives from it, and if he gets creepy, Levi could just change his number. But he's curious, and if there's one thing Levi's known for within the industry, it's risk and being daring.

His mind is off the topic once he starts heading down the hall back to his room, and decides to dress himself up for the after party. He smirks into the mirror and wonders who will catch his eye tonight.  


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Levi decides to keep having a little fun.

Deep breaths. Deep breaths, Erwin tells himself, because fuck. Those are numbers underneath Levi's autograph, and it's almost two in the morning right now. Erwin had been too nervous to notice what the heck Levi was scribbling onto the cover art of the albums, and now Erwin's hands are shaking and his heart is racing and he doesn't know how the fuck to react.

How the fuck is he supposed to react?

Erwin sets the opened case down on his coffee table and groans as he lies down on his couch, socked feet resting on the other end of the armrest.

He meets the man who's basically kept him alive—it may sound like exaggeration, but Erwin insists on it—and somehow he gets his number? Erwin swears he's dreaming. He's having a delusional dream and he'll wake up with a wistful smile, because it was a nice dream in his shitty life.

Well, not shitty. His life is okay. Normal. Plain. Whatever. He goes to work, pays his bills, comes home. It's not bad, he's not suffering nor is he terminally ill (unless you consider depression a fucking life sucker), but he's—there's just—something's just not fitting in right. Like there's something he should be doing—he should _feel_ like he's living, but he doesn't know what he needs. He's been picking at it for years but still hasn't found his answer.

But at least there's Levi. At least Levi and his beautiful voice and equally beautiful words exists, because when Erwin puts on his music, he feels as if he could forget his depression and imagine himself happier—more content—with his life. He's seriously got nothing to complain about, and he hates that he's so...so... _difficult_ about it all the time. Time to time, he'd search up the Internet again, pull up those webs he's read a thousand times over just to reread them again. Depression. Symptoms. Causes. Treatments. He tries to convince himself that he's looking too much into it, tries to believe that he's just any other normal guy living a normal life. Maybe all he needs is a relationship.

Erwin scoffs, because yeah. A fucking relationship. He'll screw that up on the first date once they realize how much of a downer he is.

Of course, he's gone to a psychiatrist before. Talked to them, but all they asked were _why do you think you're feeling this way?_ Or _have you tried removing yourself from the stress?_ Or _how do you find yourself coping with the anxiety when it comes on?_ _Here, take deep breaths. Sit up, slouch a little, there. See? It helps you breathe more naturally. Less tense._

Erwin thought it was a waste of his time. It's not that he doesn't _know_ how to relax. He just...God, he can't put his finger on it.

But at least there's Levi.

And he can't get off the high he's on right now, not after a full three hours of seeing Levi in concert and then an hour more waiting in line to meet him in person. So Erwin rides it, grinning with his lights on dim, everything silent save for the whirring of his refrigerator and his own mind. Man, Levi. He looked lean on TV, but up close, somehow he looked smaller. Small, but muscular. And thick.

Erwin wonders if it's simply because he's so much broader and taller than the singer, but there's a thing about the way Levi carries himself, all sinuous and grace and character, that Erwin can't help imagining over and over in his head. He doesn't think he could ever meet anyone else with that much strength in their aura.

Body tingling with excitement, barely having settled down after getting home, Erwin listens to his own breathing to calm himself down. He doesn't mind not sleeping tonight—he rarely does get enough sleep anyways, and if it means indulging in this feeling of giddy happiness a little longer, he might as well. It's been years. Or has he ever felt this elated? Erwin's forgotten.

\---

Los Angeles seriously knows how to hold a party. Levi is drunk out of his mind and grinding up against someone with a really nice ass and thinking that maybe he should take him back to the hotel tonight. Levi leans in close and wraps his arms around a sturdy waist, pulling the body close and they start swaying to the beat, and it's a fucking good night. Levi chuckles from the alcohol and the heat. He runs his hands up the torso and feels defined pecs through a thin shirt, and he grinds harder into the man, whoever he is.

Levi nips at the junction between neck and shoulder, the music too loud for him to know if he was able to get a moan out of it or not. He probably wouldn't remember enough to know either way. Then Levi's being tugged off the dance floor and he's laughing, enjoying how he's getting dragged away, and then he's suddenly pushed against the dark corners of a wall and kissed, full of tongue and saliva and moans. Levi arches his back, pressing his shoulder blades into the wall as he curves his lower body towards the man—taller than him, but lean—and grasps handfuls of hair as he grins into the aggressive kiss to fight back with his own nips and tongue.

The man jerks him forward to grind their clothed crotches together, a firm hand gripping Levi's waist and it gets a long, drawn-out moan from the lead singer, who pulls back with a breathless laugh before gripping harshly at those locks of hair and kissing hard, shoving his tongue inside and taking away air from his partner for the night.

“Levi,” he hears, “fuck.”

It puts a grin on his face. “Yeah?” he asks, voice low and silky. “What do you want me to do?”

He could swear he feels the shiver run through the man, and then he's hoisted up, legs wrapping tightly around that waist and then he's shoved against the wall again with lips sucking harshly at the base of his neck and Levi's head knocks against the wall, loud moans drowned in the deafening beating of the club music.

“God—fuck— _Levi—_ ”

Levi hums appreciatively, keeping the man's head at his neck with a tight grip of his hands, and then he's twirling around and maybe there's a door opening but he's not sure until suddenly he's dropped on a couch and he hears clinking. It's dark, though, and he's drunk, so he just sighs and lays back, eyes slipping closed but his cock is hard and he wants to get off—he's jerked upright, the club music muffled in the distance and someone's petting his hair, whispering into his ear.

“Levi,” he hears, and he wants to say, exasperatedly, _yes, yes, fuck, that's my name. Why does everyone need to say my name all the time?_ but he's not exactly sober and it's taking him too long to remember how to move his lips and use his throat at the same time.

Someone's moving his hand and wrapping his fingers around a hard cock and Levi falls forward onto that person's chest, moaning at how thick and long it is in his hand.

“Levi, come on, suck me off.”

Kisses are pressed to his face, all over his forehead and his cheeks and his temples, before finally landing on his lips and Levi's returning it drunkenly, lazily stroking the thick, hard cock in his hand and he's thinking that it doesn't sound too bad. He likes having cock in his mouth once in a while.

He tilts his head to start nibbling at the base of whoever's neck it is, sucking on it and perhaps leaving a hickey. He doesn't know. Doesn't really care. But it feels good.

Soon it's gone from his mouth and Levi feels cold. He fumbles with his own pants but then he's being pulled down from the couch and onto his knees, and he's still trying to get his pants off when someone's tilting his chin and brushing the tip of his cock to Levi's lips.

He shoves himself in once Levi opens his mouth, and Levi recovers from gagging quickly, sucking around the dick and licking at it as much as he can while he desperately unbuckles his pants.

“Oh, fuck, Levi—”

Levi moans around the cock, tasting it drip onto his tongue and he takes him deep, swallowing around it with his throat and the man moans, unable to stop his hips from bucking. Levi finally pulls himself out, too, and starts jerking himself off with uneven strokes as he salivates more than sucks on the length in his mouth. He's moaning around it, licking when he forgets to suck or when his mouth starts to hurt, kissing the tip and stroking himself faster.

Then he's jerked forward by his hair, head held still and the man's fucking his mouth without a care in the world and Levi feels like he's about to choke but it turns him on anyway so he lets out a strangled moan, the man pushing in deep and coming down his throat. Levi keeps sucking, forgetting when the last time was when he had someone shooting cum in his mouth, but he can't think right now so he only keeps pumping himself until he's releasing, too, onto the floor of some random room in the club.

He laughs into the kiss they share, Levi's tongue still dirty with the man's semen as they swirl it between them, mixing it with both their saliva.

\---

His phone is ringing and Levi doesn't know what time it is, but the noise is too fucking loud so early in the morning. His pants are strewn somewhere in the room and he looks around for it, head hurting like crazy but the stupid phone is making it worse so once he finds it, Levi immediately presses the answer button and painfully asks, “Hello?”

The random man—young, in his twenties most likely—stirs with a frown between his brows, and Levi tries to pull on his pants as quickly as possible with one hand. He makes his way out the room into a corridor, and thankfully he can see the washroom signs just down at the end.

“Hello?” he repeats, remembering that he's actually on the phone.

He frowns, and decides that's a really bad decision when his headache throbs again, but the person on the other end isn't replying. When he's about to hang up—he's never been too patient of a person—he finally hears an answer on the other side.

“Uh—yeah, hey.”

Levi pushes open the restroom doors, and asks with a bit of irritation, “Who's this?”

There's a moment of terse silence before: “Oh! Sorry—I'm uh, I'm Erwin. Erwin Smith.”

Levi turns on the water and splashes his face, waiting, but when there isn't any continuation, he asks, “Erwin Smith, and?”

\---

On the other side of the line, Erwin panics. Maybe he shouldn't have called. Levi sounds very annoyed, and maybe he really just wrote down his number for the hell of it. But then this is _really_ Levi, and he actually gave Erwin his real number and wow. Erwin can't believe it.

He's gripping the phone so tightly that his knuckles are turning white, and his palms are getting sweaty, but he manages to utter, “I'm—I'm sorry. I saw you in concert last night and uh, you wrote down your number so I thought I'd try it—but I shouldn't be bothering you—” He hears water splashing on the other end, and wonders if Levi just got up. Checking the time, it's only nine in the morning and maybe he'd been too hasty calling Levi so quickly but he finally managed to build up the courage to even dial the number so—

“ _Erwin...Erwin Smith..._ ”

He hears Levi mumbling his name.

“Oh. Erwin, right?”

Erwin nods before he forces out, “Yeah.”

“Hey, sorry. What's up?”

Erwin's heart is pounding hard and he doesn't know if he could grip his cell phone any more tightly. _What's up?_ How is he supposed to answer that? Now that Levi seems to have remembered who he is, his tone dropped the hostility and it feels so nice hearing Levi's voice like this.

“Well—nothing much. I'm off for the day and I—wanted to thank you. I mean, I'm surprised I get to talk to you like this but since I have the chance I want to let you know how much your work means to me. I—your voice is amazing. And your lyrics too. They always calm me down.” He's rambling now, and he knows he probably sounds really stupid, because doesn't Levi hear this all the time? Praise about his lyrics, praise about his voice, praise about everything _him._

Then he hears Levi chuckle.

“Thanks.”

And Erwin's heart stops. Or, he swears it does.

“I really mean it,” he insists.

“Yeah, I believe you.”

 

When they hang up, Erwin doesn't think he's been happier in his life.

\---

“Levi, who are you texting?”

“Hm?” He glances up briefly, only to look back down. “A guy.” A smile is tugging at his lips, and he feels ridiculous. It's been three days and he's still talking with that one Erwin Smith, who can actually hold a pretty good conversation now that he seems to get past his initial nervous mind block.

“Oh my, one of your groupies again?”

“Petra...” Gunther grimaces, though he glances over curiously too, because he's never seen Levi _this_ attached to his phone.

Levi ignores them, ignores the bumpy bus ride, ignores the fact that he's starting to become more and more interested in this man. Giving him his number didn't turn out to be bad, at all.

**oh yeah? tell me more**

Levi wouldn't call himself vain. Nor would he consider himself narcissistic. But this is actually the first time someone's had more to say than, _'Your lyrics are so meaningful!'_ simply because it's a line that makes them sound like they actually put some thought into his songs.

**Well, when you say “moving on” you're not actually talking about romance, are you? I thought it could be, but then when you add “mending my bones with the pain” you're talking about moving on from hardship and coming back stronger, right? I may be looking too much into this. Or I'm entirely off. I apologize.**

Levi rereads the text another time, impressed. He'd stopped trying to explain his lyrics when it seemed the majority of people decided they were about relationships, but in reality, most of them weren't. They weren't about other people at all, to be honest, when Levi wrote his own songs.

There was a soothing effect to songwriting that Levi's relied on since high school. He started out writing poems, because the written word was so much easier than spoken. It still is. He tends to do a lot of introspection through his music, and judging by his popularity, he supposes that there's something in his words that other people connect with. Or so he hoped, but even if they didn't quite get his true message, he was fine as long as they found some sort of catharsis or connection.

But this man—this Erwin Smith. He's the closest anyone has ever come to Levi's own thoughts. He smiles.

 **p** **close**

Levi stares at his reply, frowning because he doesn't know why he's trying so hard to think of something else to add, so that he could keep the conversation going. Finally he decides on:

**how long did that take u?**

He receives a reply shortly after.

**You mean to come up with that?  
A few days. I'd been listening to it whenever I could.**

Levi doesn't quite know how to respond to that, seeing as it's also one of his less popular pieces, but also one of his personal favorites. It's a solemn thing, barely any instruments and whenever Levi sings it, he can't help but sing from deep inside his chest, as if his whole being lived with the music. A curious thought piques Levi's interest, and he can't help wondering why Erwin would be so drawn to that piece. Did something...happen to him, too? Something he's trying to get past. That's the only reason why he'd be so affected. Levi frowns slightly as he stares the the screen, thinking of what to say.

Time to play it cool.

**u like it tht much? ;)**

He lets out an amused scoff at the response he gets. Levi could sense Erwin getting nervous through his texts. To be honest, Levi finds it cute—it's definitely amusing in his mind, when all he could remember is a tall, blond, broad-shouldered man with too-blue eyes in a somewhat boring brown sweater, holding onto his phone, flustered. The man is easily a head taller than Levi, and _he's_ fumbling with his words. Maybe Levi does have a thing for bigger, easily flustered men. He licks his lips at the idea.

**I really like your songs. Honest. This may sound weird, but they help me calm down.**

The genuine reply, with its punctuation and lack of emoticons, has Levi smirking. Is Erwin too straight-laced to notice his flirting or is he just too nervous to return it? Either way, this is fun. As long as Erwin catches on soon, Levi might enjoy this for a while. He gets bored of any one person after a certain amount of time, because they all turned out to be quite the same. Loves his fame, wants his affections. He gives it to them, they get used to it, and then they hit stagnation. And Levi hates being stagnant. A waste of his time. There's a reason why he's done so well in the entertainment arena. Everything is always changing.

Calm down, though. What kind of calming down? Levi wonders if it really does have something to do with what he'd guessed earlier—that Erwin is dealing with something in his life. Levi wouldn't really have cared, seeing as he'd heard a repeat of “My boyfriend left me and your songs helped me move on” or “God, I was so lonely before” or something to that degree. What Levi did appreciate, though, were the times when he heard that his songs helped them get back on their feet, helped them take control of their lives again, helped them realize that they were dissatisfied with their situation and finally decided to change it. But it seems those people don't come around to telling him.

“Hey, Levi, sorry to interrupt your little session there, but we gotta get ready.” Gunther nods his head towards the building they're just arriving at, and Levi peeks up from his phone to realize they'd arrived at the show's building.

He nods in acknowledgment, typing a quick text before he gets off for tonight's event. His band was playing at some talk show that Levi doesn't quite pay attention to—he reminds himself to thank Petra again—and since they are already in L.A., it's nice to stay for a few weeks longer before heading out somewhere else.

**calm down how?**

He wonders if he should add anything else, but decides to stick with just this for now. Maybe Erwin will give him something to bounce off of. The man's interesting, and Levi wants to scratch to the bottom of why. He's not planning on it taking too long; most of the time he's letting his expectations ride along a little too much. Levi won't admit it, but he knows he's looking for something. Something in someone that'll keep his interest. Perhaps that's why he takes up so many opportunities to come across new people. He's sure there's bound to be _someone_ who could keep him interested for more than two weeks. But he doesn't hope too much for it, seeing as it's been years. Now he's just having his fun. Might as well do it when he's young.

With an enigmatic grin, Levi steps out of the car and wonders how long it'll take before he stops contacting Erwin Smith.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Levi's a VERY promiscuous one. Don't blame him. He'll start to be a good boy later. ;P
> 
> Sorry if this is slow...I suck at plot. Smut is much easier to write idky. ugh. Do comment if you have the time! I love reading whether you've liked this/think they're OOC/or if anything is confusing you. 
> 
> Predictions?? I love talking AUs so I'd love to hear what you think will/should happen! Though I do have major scenes in mind already.


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